


I Cried When the Sun Went Down

by Bythoseburningembers



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka is in a polyamorous relationship, Alternate Universe, Anakin is a good little brother, Anakin ships Codiwan, Attachments are no longer forbidden, F/F, F/M, M/M, Obi-wan is Anakin's big brother, Post-Order 66 (Star Wars), Protective CC-2224 | Cody, Qui-Gon Jinn Lives, Qui-Gon Jinn's A+ Parenting, Qui-gon needs to get his life together, Rebellion, Shmi Skywalker Lives, Shmi Skywalker Needs A Hug, Shmi Skywalker has an adopted child, Shmi wants grandkids, Top CC-2224 | Cody, Yoda side-eyes everyone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:09:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29660853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bythoseburningembers/pseuds/Bythoseburningembers
Summary: In this universe, Order 66 decimated the Jedi Order in Obi-wan's sixth year of apprenticeship. Now, the last surviving Jedi serve the Rebel Alliance trying to free a subjugated galaxy. Soon after Qui-gon Jinn rescues the Chosen One and his mother from slavery, he vanishes, assumed dead.Seventeen years later, he returns with a plan to end the Empire.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, Barriss Offee/Ahsoka Tano, CC-2224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi, Lux Bonteri/Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn & Anakin Skywalker, Qui-Gon Jinn & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn & Shmi Skywalker
Comments: 2
Kudos: 72





	I Cried When the Sun Went Down

_“I let the sun come down without telling you exactly what I mean. And you might never know I let the sun come down. I let the sun come down without letting you know exactly what I mean, exactly what you mean to me.”_

-Sun Come Down. Chance The Rapper.

The journey to D’Qar was slow-going.

Anakin Skywalker was used to piloting long distances. He had been piloting since the age of ten, when Obi-wan _finally_ let him get behind the wheel of a space-faring ship, but the monotony of hyperspace was jolting even for him. And there were so many _checkpoints_ he had to pass in order to be allowed onto the Rebel headquarters.

Even as a Jedi, he had to succumb to every rigorous examination of his identity, ship, fellow passengers, blah, blah, blah.

He didn’t enjoy going to D’Qar for this exact reason. He much preferred the Rebel safehouse on Naboo, but even he could admit that D’Qar was more secure. It wasn’t every day that a man came back from the dead.

At twenty-five years old, it had never occurred to Anakin that he might one day be reunited with the Jedi who had found him on Tatooine, what was it, seventeen years go now? Nearly two decades.

He sighed and leaned back in his seat. It would be another two hours before the next Rebel checkpoint. “Artoo,” he called over one shoulder.

The doors to _The Twilight’s_ bridge slid open. Artoo had been damaged in their last fight with the Empire. His wheels made a stilted jolting noise whenever he moved.

Anakin scowled. “Ahsoka didn’t fix that limp buddy?” He asked. Artoo whistled mournfully.

Anakin nodded. It was true. They had run out of tuning oil a few missions back, and supplies were scarce again these days. “We’ll restock on D’Qar. You don’t mind being a little rickety until then?” He asked. Artoo whirred. Anakin smiled, checked their flight path one more time and stood, stretching his arms above his head.

“Alright. Take over piloting for me a while, will ya? I’m going to find something useful to do until we get there,” The tiny hooks sprang from Artoo’s headboard and arched in a mimicry of salute. Anakin patted his dome as he passed by.

_The Twilight_ wasn’t the largest ship ever made. It was meant for small pick-up loads, but The Rebel Alliance was short staffed, as it were.

As always.

He entered the back room. His eyes immediately swiveled to the bunks set on the left side. He had installed them last year just for times like these. Good thing too. Two of the people he loved most were sleeping there. Anakin crept over to them.

Shmi had taken the bottom bunk. It appeared that her own time on Hoth had exhausted her. He could see the lines curving beneath her closed eyes.

Shmi Skywalker was one of the best physicians the Rebellion had, wanted all over the galaxy, especially since she was mostly self-taught. She had taken a few classes on Alderraan, offered by Bail Organa once he found out about her prowess.

She was curled under a thin blanket, back pressed hard against the durasteel behind her. Shmi never slept with her face turned toward the wall. It was a protective measure beaten into her by years of slavery, and then years more of hiding.

Anakin reached down to gently swipe a few strands of hair from her face.

She didn’t wake, but her brows did pinch, as if confused. He nudged her deeper into slumber with The Force. He could sense her imbalanced emotions, the confusion and muted rage. He didn’t blame her.

Anakin was only a toddler when the Sith rose to power.

He had no memory of the day, though the rest of his life would be spent in the shadow of the republic’s subsequent Fall. His mother- Shmi – was surprised when he admitted he didn’t remember. She said that when it had happened, he had screamed and screamed for hours.

Strapped to her back as she cleaned a wealthy owner’s house, he had caused so much ruckus that the owners had threatened to bash his head against a wall if she didn’t find a way to shut him up.

So, his mother had been forced to soak a rag in alcohol and stuff it over his nose until he passed out.

“I cried,” she always said. “I watched the shock and pain on your face and could hardly keep my own cries quiet. I had never felt like such a terrible mother,” Anakin would assure her, again and again, that he had no memory of the event and even if he did, she was the greatest mother ever. Yet the fact remained, his only associations with the Fall of the Jedi and the Republic were snippets of the aftermath.

Life for the wretched of Tatooine did not change much with the Jedi’s fall. Not until Master Qui-gon had arrived, with his Padawan.

Two survivors of a nearly extinct society.

Then Anakin and his mother’s lives had been filled with joy and freedom…

Anakin hastily shoved those memories away.

Next, he checked on Ahsoka. Compassionate as always, she had taken the top bunk. Shmi’s knees got sore in Hyperspace.

She had been his Padawan for nearly four years now. She was so much _wiser_ than he had been at her age, but still his fearless little one. She slept on her back as he’d taught her, lightsaber resting lightly on her belly. He had a sudden urge to tickle her awake and make her saber practice with him.

But their mission on Christophsis had been gruelingly long. Ahsoka had held up a cave mouth while refugees escaped the clutches of Stormtroopers. She deserved the rest.

She, too, was disturbed even in sleep. Her white brows were pinched together, and she shifted minutely, as if preparing to defend herself.

Anakin projected calm and safety in The Force. She settled, a sleepy question flitting across their bond. _You good?_ He sent back an affectionate affirmative, pulled the blanket more securely around her shoulders and continued to the back hangar.

He briefly contemplated calling Obi-wan, or Padme, or Rex. Any of them would answer his summons immediately. Rex and Obi-wan would answer even if they were in the middle of a battle.

So. He probably shouldn’t call _those_ two selfless chosski’s. Padme was attending a Rebel leader strategy briefing on Agamar doing _real_ hero stuff. Besides, he was sure he’d see both Obi-wan and Padme on D’Qar.

So. That only left meditating.

Well, far be it from him to do it while _sitting down._ Anakin slipped his lightsaber into his hand and ignited it. Then he was moving, going through the standard Makashi Kata forms. They came easily to him, years of practice oiling his limbs. He allowed his body to move while his mind skipped past the memories that he desperately wanted to stay buried.

* * *

_Anakin peered out from behind the sturdy table he was hiding behind. The living room, a tiny, minimalistic part of the cave peppered with stone furniture layered with animal hides, was empty of life._

_Well, outwardly, but Master Qui-gon had been showing him how to feel with The Force. That’s what they called these special powers he had._

_He squeezed his eyes shut and threw himself out of his own body. That’s what it felt like anyway. As if his mind was suddenly outside his head. He relished the steady thrum of hearts beating all over the island, the warm, flowy feeling of life. Like warm water rushing over his palms._

_He could sense others now. His mother was still inside the house, the kitchen to be exact. She was stirring a mixture of squash, fish, and seaweed in a bubbling cauldron over the fire. They did not have any modern appliances here._

_They cooked and baked only what they caught, and over open flame. Anakin still worked on Threepio, but without all the parts, it was slow-going._

_He took a moment to pout over the fact before swiveling his attention to Obi-wan. He was outside chopping wood, his own mind sheltered firmly in the Force too._

_Anakin reached out and tapped at his presence politely. He could feel Obi-wan’s surprised amusement. The older boy was ten years his senior, and was generally kind and patient, but he didn’t talk much. Qui-gon said he had been like that ever since the Sith killed the Jedi._

_Anakin tried to project his question. It filtered sloppily between them; grains of sand shoved down a straw. **Ah,** Obi-wan thought back, clearly. He was better at it than Anakin. **You may want to focus a bit harder on your surroundings.**_

_Then he pulled away and Anakin squealed as his self, his body in the real world, was suddenly hoisted into the air._

…

_Anakin Skywalker had been nine years old for three weeks when two strangers had tumbled into his life with all the fanfare of stampeding banthas. They had been rebels, yes, but even better than that. He could tell by the shiny cylinder strapped to one’s hip, hidden by a deep brown cloak._

_It had sent a shudder of absolute terror through him. He’d heard about those blade yielding murderers. He had kept his distance the entire time they spoke to Watto, looking to buy ship parts._

_Sure, the Republic’s protective arms had not quite reached Anakin and his mother. News of the galaxy outside was strictly prohibited for slaves, lest they get any ideas._

_But Anakin was smart._

_The spice traders came into Watto’s shop with tales that chilled his spine. Stories of entire planets ransacked, enslaved, or slaughtered by the Sith’s mindless army of stormtroopers. The people on the planet where they had been cloned – the Kaminoans- had been all but completely wiped out._

_There were refugees spewing from the rich planets in the mid and inner rim near Courascant. They came bloodied and wailing, or shocked stiff and silent from whatever atrocities that had driven them from their lavish homes._

_Wanted Posters were slapped onto the cantinas where Bounty Hunters lounged. They had famous people on them. People that even Anakin, in his ignorance, knew had once been immensely powerful, very influential people._

_Senators and monarchs, his mom said. Bail Organa. Padme Amidala. Satine Kryze. Mon Mothma. Onaconda Farr. They were traitors to The New Empire, and anyone caught harboring them would be executed immediately._

_But the thing that stuck in his mind the most were rumors of child kidnappings. Anakin’s mother was most afraid of those stories, so he paid special attention. Once, the spice traders reminisced, the Jedi had conscripted babies into their weird cult, but the Jedi had never stolen children without warning or murdered their families._

_That’s what the Sith did. If you had powers, the kind that Anakin had, then the Sith would come, murder your family, and **force** kids into their service. It was said to be a fate worse than death. _

_That was why he wasn’t allowed to show his powers. Mom drilled it into him with desperate fervency. He was to never demonstrate or even think about using his special abilities. Or else the Sith would come and take him away._

_Anakin did not attempt to disobey, not even once. He was pretty tough. He could take a whipping or a beating without crying out too loud anymore, but to lose his mom would be worse than any bruise or cut._

_…_

_For a moment, he thought he was flying. His astonished squeak caught in his throat as he was suddenly tossed high into the air. The blood rushed in his ears and it was just like the Boonta Eve race all over again, those heart-stopping moments when his ship dipped or scaled above the hot sands._

_He landed with a soft umph back in strong arms. “Got you, Ani!” Qui-gon said. Anakin laughed breathlessly and managed to wriggle out of his grip._

_“Not yet you don’t!” He cried. He grabbed hold of Qui-gon’s self in the Force and tugged. Qui-gon’s arms shot open, as if wrenched apart by invisible threads. He chuckled softly as Anakin fell through the hole, landed on his feet, and skipped away._

_Anakin could feel Qui-gon’s pride in his new accomplishment, and it spurred him on **faster.**_

_He leapt over the couch with its animal furs, and narrowly avoided stomping on the Tooka kitten that Qui-gon and he had been nursing back to health. The orphaned creature mewled at him grumpily. Qui-gon joked that it took after Obi-wan._

_He skidded into the kitchen. Shmi knelt beside the cauldron, humming softly as she stirred their dinner. The steam rose the clay chimney Obi-wan had made, but its heat and savory smell still floated about the house._

_He grabbed her shoulders and took cover behind her warmth. “Mom!” He gasped, halfway between a giggle and a squeal. “He’s gonna get me!”_

_“Oh?” Shmi’s mouth quirked at the sides, and her eyes twinkled. They always did that when Master Qui-gon was around these days. “Who?”_

_Anakin kept a firm eye on the door. “Qui-gon,” he whispered into her ear. “He’s right behind me.”_

_“He does seem to catch you most of the time,” Shmi agreed calmly._

_He harrumphed, offended by her lack of faith in his skills. “Not this time,” he growled. “I have an **approach** ,” he had learned this word, too, from Qui-gon, and took every opportunity to use it. _

_Shmi laughed, and he basked in the joy it brought. She had never laughed much on Tatooine, but of course not. That place had been a hellhole._

_Qui-gon strode into the kitchen. Anakin gasped and curled into a tight ball behind his mother. She didn’t so much as glance at him because mom was **always** on his side. Qui-gon had to duck to make it inside. The cave wasn’t quite that tall. His eyes swept over the room. _

_When they landed on Shmi, the cerulean there lit up with an emotion too large for words. Anakin knew what it was, of course, just not the word in basic._

_“Ah, madame. Excuse my intrusion,” he said politely. He took one of Shmi’s hands and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. She grinned at him. “I’m looking for an escapee.”_

_“Oh dear,” Shmi said, playing along as always. “Here, Master Jedi?”_

_“I’m afraid so,” Qui-gon intoned gravely. “You haven’t seen a little imp run through here recently, have you?”_

_Anakin’s pride nearly gave him away. An imp? He had grown at least two inches since they’d arrived! He was hardly little anymore, and one day, he would be one of the greatest Jedi ever. He would see every star._

_…_

_It had taken him ten minutes to realize than the two men were not Sith. No one else seemed to have noticed their laser swords, but the way they spoke, quietly and firmly, but politely, cemented it into his mind. Monsters would never say **please** and **thank you**. _

_So that meant they were Jedi._

_Most people believed the Jedi were all dead. The spice traders said that it had taken the Stormtroopers weeks to burn all their bodies, even the babies in that big Temple of theirs. The rest had been hunted down by Inquisitors._

_But here they were, both larger than life people. He had of course offered them shelter. They had been searching for a “vergence” in the Force, that they hoped could help them overthrow the Empire. They thought it was a weapon or Holocron._

_And had been incredibly surprised to learn that it was Anakin instead._

_The next few weeks had slipped past faster than Lightspeed. Master Qui-gon Jinn was bold and powerful and unceasingly courageous. He believed in Anakin when no one else did. He helped him win his own freedom from Watto in the Boonta Eve podrace!_

_Watto hadn’t wanted to release Shmi. He still “needed her” he said._

_But then Master Qui-gon’s apprentice, Obi-wan, had had a brilliant idea. They faked his mom’s death. With their magical Jedi abilities that were so like his own, they somehow masked her heartbeat in the Force._

_It was enough to fool the cruel doctor that Watto sent to investigate her body. Died “of a broken heart,” was the diagnosis._

_Then they had escaped to some pit in the middle of nowhere known as Ahch-To._

_Qui-gon said they would be safe there. He explained that they could not join other surviving Jedi in their safehouses across the galaxy until Anakin learned how to shield his presence better. For now, the planet would mask him._

_Anakin didn’t mind Ahch-To. It was strong in The Force, but Anakin loved it because of the rain. Great, torrential downpours that delighted him. He loved splashing in the puddles and smelling the husky scent of new morning dew. Qui-gon and Obi-wan had built a small home for them in the caves there._

_And so began his first year of freedom. Just him, mom Qui-gon and Obi-wan, four exiles living on the edge of nowhere_. _Qui-gon promised to train him. He said that Anakin was “The Chosen One,” whatever that meant. All he knew was that he loved this strange family._

_And they loved him._

_…_

_“I have heard strange noises lately,” Shmi admitted. She tapped her chin with one hand while the other scrabbled at Anakin’s leg, pinching at his knees. He slapped at her hands playfully, biting his bottom lip to hold back a laugh._

_“Oh? Where?”_

_“One just flew past me. I think I felt something… Right here!” Surprising him, she suddenly turned around and grabbed him. His mother was one of the strongest people he knew. Her grip was like iron, and it was especially cheating because she was tickling him._

_He squirmed frantically. “Mom! No! Y-you’re supposed to be on my side!” He cried. His laughter made him dizzy as he laid in her arms. Shmi grinned down at him._

_“Oh, sorry Ani. I thought you were the imp,” she said with mock apology. He jumped from her arms just in time to avoid Qui-gon._

_There was a tug on his leg from the Force, but Anakin twisted in the invisible grip and wrenched himself free. He flung open the wooden door to the back and charged outside. He had one last ally he could employ._

_“Obi-wan!” He yelled, seeing the older boy. His shirt clung to his back and shoulders, soggy from sweat and the cold mid-day mist._

_He stood above a newly chopped pile of wood. He was levitating pieces of it into a neat stack. He arched a brow when Anakin ran up, gasping for breath. “Obi-wan, quick! You have to help me hide! I can win this time, I know it!”_

_Obi-wan turned his eyes to him. They looked almost navy in the stark white sunlight. “How do you know Qui-gon hasn’t already secured my loyalty?” He wondered._

_Anakin was momentarily stumped. He rarely brought Obi-wan into this little game of theirs. For the most part, Obi-wan kept to himself. He did chores and training with Qui-gon. Sometimes he tinkered with the ship or made long treks around the island._

_“You can join my team?” He suggested warily, watching Obi-wan’s expression carefully._

_“What are the advantages of that?” Anakin mulled over the question._

_“I know all the secret spots that the porgs use to nest. There are really shiny rocks there that I think you’ll like. And when Threepio starts running again, maybe he can help you learn another language?” He knew from Qui-gon that Obi-wan was multilingual; and enjoyed the challenge of language learning. Anakin appreciated the skill. He, too, was of multiple tongues._

_Indeed, Obi-wan’s mouth quirked at the edges._

_“Hm, I’m not sure Anakin. To betray my master of nearly fourteen years is no small favor…”_

_“But we could be a **great** team!” Anakin blurted, passionately. “You and me! The pilot and the diplomat! We’ll save people and beat up Sith and end slavery and do all kinds of wizard things! We’ll be best friends **forever**!” He extended his hand, brows furrowed with supreme seriousness. The Force chimed a soft, fluttering tune between them. “Just… Stay with me?” _

_Obi-wan scanned him up and down, face inscrutable. Eventually, as if he were reaching into a deep lava bed. Then he shook his head and grabbed Anakin’s hand._

_An electric sizzle went up both their spines and the Force chimed a satisfied note. Anakin blinked, wondering what had just happened. Before he could ask, however, Obi-wan suddenly swung him to the side._

_When he landed, he saw that Qui-gon had followed them outside. He glanced between the two curiously, but a slow smile was inching under his beard. “I see you’ve turned my dear friend against me, you scoundrel,” he teased. “I’m stunned Obi-wan. Did we not swear a vow to each other?”_

_Obi-wan released his hand and crossed his arms. “Anakin was very convincing master.”_

_“Yeah!” Anakin stood beside him; chest puffed out. “Me and Obi-wan are gonna win this time around!” Qui-gon chuckled, eyes narrowing. Obi-wan tensed, flicking his hands as if in preparation for something. He could probably sense it. Anakin inched closer to him._

_“I’m sure you would!” A new voice interrupted cheerily. The three men turned to see Shmi leaning against the doorway, grinning. “But dinner is ready, and all great pilots need their supper. Besides, a storm is rolling in again,” she nodded to the sky._

_Dark, foreboding clouds were beginning to bleed across the sky, cutting way the sun’s rays. The ocean beyond was churning and growling, like a starved predator. “Your mother is right, Anakin. I think our game must resume another time,” Qui-gon agreed._

_“Ah man!” Anakin groaned. He looked up at Obi-wan, who did not look as disappointed. “Do you want me to help bring in the firewood?” He asked._

_“You don’t have too.”_

_“But we’re a team now, right?” Obi-wan’s surprise was like a butterfly, flittering on his nose. Qui-gon’s own soft gratitude sprinkled him like rain and Obi-wan’s nod was almost shy._

_“Yes,” Obi-wan stammered. Which was weird. He spoke more proper than anyone Anakin had ever met. “I… I suppose so.”_

_“I shall help Shmi in the kitchen then,” with a significant look at Obi-wan, one that spoke volumes Anakin couldn’t yet read, he vanished back into the house._

_Obi-wan inhaled a shaky breath and Anakin had a feeling that **something** inside him that was broken had just mended a bit. Obi-wan watched him go with an expression between helplessness and betrayal. Anakin tugged at his sleeve. _

_“Come on,” he said. “Mom made my favorite tonight.”_

_…_

_For two years they had lived together in that cave. Anakin had learned so much under Qui-gon’s tutelage. About The Force and The Jedi and the Old Republic. He thought he would have liked to live in a world like the one before. Obi-wan told him stories, sometimes, of his own apprenticeship._

_The Jedi had been wiped out before he could reach Knighthood, but not all of them were dead. He said a few hundred remained in hiding, broken into small groups in safehouses across the galaxy._

_Most of them ran missions for the Rebellion now. But Obi-wan and Qui-gon had not visited one of those safehouses in years. He had no clue if many of his friends were even alive._

_Qui-gon and his mother grew increasingly close. She grew to love doing things for the elder Jedi and sometimes he would bring her flowers he picked from the fields._

_Obi-wan watched them with a knowing smile on his lips. He would only shake his head when Anakin asked what it all meant._

_“It’s nothing bad, Anakin,” he promised. “Quite the opposite, actually.”_

_Anakin thought that if his life had continued this way forever, it would have been paradise. He wouldn’t have had a single complaint, except maybe those weeks when he had explored the island and tinkered with the ship and Threepio._

_Then he grew bored, and the stars called to him again. He grumbled about the tediousness of exiled living, the loneliness of it all._

_He learned to shield himself completely in the Force by age ten. At eleven, Qui-gon let him practice with his lightsaber. At twelve, Qui-gon admitted that the Vergence they’d found was actually a young boy to the Jedi Council. It was a typed, coded message. Anakin never got to read all of it. Qui-gon didn’t like their reply, or Anakin assumed not._

_The days after, Qui-gon acted different. Impatient, snappy, foul tempered. He slept little and ate even less. Then, two weeks after his twelfth life day, Qui-gon vanished._

_He left a hastily scribbled note addressed to Obi-wan. He explained that he had been called away on a mission. He made Obi-wan promise to train Anakin in the Jedi Way while he was gone, no matter the Council’s verdict._

_He did not say when he would return, or what the mission was, or why he had not mentioned it in person. His sudden absence filled the house with a dark fear._

_The Jedi Council, when asked, explained that they had not assigned Qui-gon a new mission. No one could contact him. He had taken their only ship, leaving them stranded on Ach-To. Anakin watched the skies for months, waiting for him to return._

_He never did._

* * *

_Not until now,_ Anakin reflected as his eyes fluttered open.

He resurfaced from the depths of his own mind. The Force was different. They were exiting Hyperspace now; he could feel it. Ahsoka, roused also by their slowed descent, was making small grumbling noises as she came awake. Artoo whistled from the cockpit. Anakin released a slow breath.

At twenty-five years old, he had never forgotten Qui-gon Jinn.

Though, he _had_ tried. The man’s disappearance had rocked his family, had set them on a path of terror and darkness for years as they fled the Sith tracking Anakin, as Obi-wan struggled to keep them safe, as Shmi was forced to work within a universe that had never cared about her.

All because of him.

The doors slid open. Ahsoka stuck her head inside. “Hey Sky-guy,” she chirped. “If you’re done taking a beauty nap, then the rest of us would like to get to D’Qar this century,” he resisted the urge to smile. He shouldn’t encourage her.

“Why?” He drawled. “Never seen a man come back from the dead before?”

“I see you come back to life every morning, old man,” Ahsoka replied without missing a beat. Anakin rolled his eyes and raised his hands in surrender. He’d forgotten that he was speaking to the sarcasm queen.

He walked past her, giving her Padawan braid a quick tug as he passed. “Be on your best behavior. The whole Jedi Council will be there,” he warned. Ahsoka perked up.

“They will?” He sensed her shock and excitement. Ahsoka had never seen the whole council before. With a jolt, Anakin realized he hadn’t either.

“I hope so,” it wasn’t every day that a formerly proclaimed dead Jedi came back into the folds. However, it was rare for the whole council to assemble on one planet. It was too dangerous. If the Sith found them, the Jedi would be dealt a crucial blow.

But the world always seemed to perk to attention when Qui-gon came.

“We should get going then,” Ahsoka dipped her head. “No use in making them wait.”


End file.
